The way you move your hips
To the rhythm we’ve created
As the lips slide across one another
****, you so ******’ wet
To the way I push down on ya pelvis
My otha lips French kissin’
Our tongues rubbing, caressin’ ... vertically sometimes a horizontal movement
All while your juices run into mine ....
The rhythm we’ve created is mixing the two
Creating this ******’ mess we call ecstasy
The most wettest, slipperiest, sweet as nectar comes
The perfect consistency to slurp
Just to allow a little to drip so that it can be twirled and played with
It’s called sprung juice.... THA ******* GOING type juice... The “I promise to always...” juice.... That I’m not and don’t ******* play when it comes to you no matter who it is!! Tha ****!
The feeling makes my limbs go numb
Creates this pulsating wavy feeling
I’m weak, your panting and we’re in total bliss
Too sensitive to touch
Too sensitive and exhausted to move
“Just let me lay here” I tell you
The supernova we created was so intense
We can only hold hands while we fall asleep
Wishing to dream of what just took place
I’ve met my match
I have the intimacy piece that was missing
It was you, My ******’ Dawg 🤞🏽💕

Timeless afternoon
Postponing chores
Putting paperwork away
Going to bed with you

My heart is in my belly
exactly where I explode
with you - firework sparks
and sweet languor in every cell

My body completely
touched by the magic
spell of hormonal love
still shiny

with attention and sweat
every spot awakened and treated
dozily omnipresent
in your closeness

It was ever your voice, always
That voice,
Soft and gentle, a trickle of freshness
In a dead place,
Soothing as the bag balm Mother
Smoothed on wounded calf legs.
That voice, your voice,
Without words,
even while speaking other words,
Always said to me
I won’t judge you,
I could even love you,
I see you, yes you.

YET

You seemed much to hide,
Holding your schedule askew
From others, which
I often wondered of, yet
Even standing nights before
Your door,
My heart found no Faith
That you lived in love of solitude.
For I, I lived hating my solitude,
A solitude of loneliness.

Thank you sweet Andrea,
For bringing me that saving voice,
For giving me your soft hand.
It felt so right in my hand.
I heard your stories with gratitude.

I see you Andrea, I do.
I see you.
I feel I could love you.
Let me try.

Lovers in the bus,

I don't want to look, but I --


see it anyway.

Daily,
New hopes are born,
Old hopes rooted—or uprooted.
Time keeps moving,
The world is noisy,
Everything calls loudly-
Except His presence.

We are more than flesh,
We are spirit—
Like devices thirsting for power,
So our souls thirst for Him.
Electricity fuels machines,
But the Holy Spirit fuels men.

Many are alive,
Yet already dead,
Walking ghosts,
Dim lights
Extinguished by the slightest breeze.

But those who dwell in Christ—
Ah, from afar their fragrance calls!
Their peace is deep,
Their faith is envious,
Their joy a hymn to behold.

Stepping in,
They bring His presence with them.
To some, He is reality;
To others, an abomination.
To few, a visited place;
But to His own,
He is home.

Sweet as honey,
Comforting as rest,
An unexplainable power
Draws them deeper, deeper still.
He knows His own.
He cares for His beloved.

to me,
words mattered
more than acts.
you could pull me close
with a single sentence.
the right phrase,
muttered ever so soft,
could mend
what a kiss could not.

my mind doesn’t care
for big gestures.
they don’t keep me
up at night.
the way you said,
i’ve never had
a real conversation
with her
the way we have,
however, might.

Across her sweatshirt, ninety-nine names
stitched like constellations —a lover finds
a hundred reasons to say why he loves you.

A slogan turned into scripture, she wears
it close to her chest; words sweating with her
on the mattress, to wait patiently, following
all the directions from the map of her heart.

I’ll mark the landscape, paint portraits of her
in my mind’s eye —learning the grammar
of her body, and the rules of her orientation.

Inside her, every detail is an interior design,
yet all of it points outward towards me.
She proves me down to earth, grounded
by the gravity of her presence.

Her breath is thick; honest words grazing
the neck like prayer; and in silence, our eyes
speak the sentences our lips can’t form.

Love repeats itself, a devotion like unanswered
prayers, whispered night after night; to find
a surrender that completes both sides of us.

I found my Hundredth Reason.

the unexpected storm
on another day
could have ruined
that intimate moment
of memories and ice cream
sat on the rocks
of the sea wall
surrounded by calm waters
even as the rain fell
and thunder rumbled
they headed for shelter
on their own terms
only when they wished
this time it had
done nothing more
than bring them
playfully
defiantly
together